The Green Guest
by BeckviXen
Summary: A young woman named Nadia shows up to Paradigm City with ideas that differ from some of the Smith Mansion occupants...


10-25-13 The Green Guest

I sat down to my old desk that I used for homework when I was in school. I hastily brushed aside some loose papers and an empty folder to make room for what I was about to do. A small stack of textbooks were sitting on the edge of the left hand corner. Hm. Mathematics. History. And a thin paperback Vocabulary with a dog-eared cover. There was so much scrawl on the cover from all those moments of being bored in class that it was long unreadable. But one thing that could be easily seen was a type of local affiliation. It read 707. To some, it was just a town-wide fad for the young men and women, but for me, it meant something, as I was born and raised within that area code. I pushed it aside, and it landed with a sad flop on the brown carpeted floor next to the window. Then I picked up the stack of abandoned schoolbooks and placed them onto the floor next to the Vocabulary book. Besides my books, there were a bunch of miscellaneous things leftover from my last year of high school, including pictures of my classmates. I glanced at them briefly, and then put them into a drawer on the side. Now that my desk was tidy, I looked for something else to clean. Nothing. Every part of my room was neatly placed and organized. My bed was made with a heavy blanket that had a male lion's head on top. The area underneath was clean. All the shelves were immaculate, with not a speck of dust on them. I took another moment to look around at my posters. On one of the walls was a dedication to all things Big O, my all-time favorite anime. This included my hand-drawn Roger Smith, Dorothy Wayneright, and Jason Beck animal pictures and then some. I sighed, thinking about what else I could do that weekend when my friends were all busy. Then I had an idea. I could do something fan-made involving Big O, like a fanfiction or another animal drawing. But I didn't feel that inspired yet. I was struggling through yet another case of writer's block. So, with my agenda empty that day, I sighed long and hard. Then my eyes went to an empty bottle of Marley's Mellow Mood tea drink sitting on my window sill. Okay, now I knew what else to do today. I went to my backpack at the foot of my bed and unzipped the small front compartment. I fished out a small sandwich baggy with some green stuff in it and then some rolling papers and a purple lighter from my friend Nathan. I placed the bundle on my empty desk and sat down, obviously looking forward to my fix. I rolled me a fat one just like my best guy friend taught me. Then I stuck the doob in my mouth, lit it up, and inhaled. I waited a minute to let it set in, then exhaled luxuriously out the open window. I thought for a moment. A few months ago I stayed a couple of weeks at my grandma's when my parents looked for a house. Those few weeks turned into a suppressed need for independence and, of course, some Mary Jane. Then, along with our new house, I got my freedom back. The only things I had in my room were a desk and my mattress on the floor, but one thing I had then was my independence back. I puffed until I got halfway through the joint, then put it out in a cereal bowl from earlier that morning... A little while later, I felt good, but then I also felt tired. I climbed back into bed without a care for anything...

I saw a yellow taxi pull away into the city street, and I turned towards a huge black mansion that loomed over me from the overcast skies. I decided to dress casual that day, so I stood clad in my Nor Cal sweatshirt, ripped blue skinny jeans, and black Ugg boots. My rolling suitcase was at one side, and an extra duffle bag was on my other side. The large front doors opened, and two men in suits went to each side and cleared the way for the owner of the mansion. The elegant-looking man dressed in black stepped down the concrete stairs. My heart stopped. Oh my God. It was Roger Smith from Big O. And I'm there in Paradigm City... to live! Feeling a little stoned from that morning, I thought that the whole thing was just badass. Hopefully he won't suspect something because I was so calm. Almost too calm.

"Hi there. My name is Roger Smith, Paradigm City's Top Negotiator. What's your name, young lady?"

This man was very formal. Then I got paranoid and thought about my impression. The whole calm zen attitude dissipated fast...

I replied, "Uh... I'm Nadia. Good to meet you, Roger."

For one thing, it looked strange that some guy was inviting a young woman into his home. For another thing, we had just met. But I pushed that thought away quickly. Hey, I was standing right in front of the man of my anime dreams, and that was that. I jumped at the chance, now all sensations of the high gone.

Roger flashed an incredible rich man's smile and said, "Well, it's my pleasure to have you here. Come inside. I'll help you with those." He glanced down at my luggage.

"Okay, thank you very much," I said, getting more and more fangirly by the moment.

"No problem," then he picked up my things and I followed him inside the foyer and into the main living space. I jumped at the sound of the doors closing down the hall. That split second I was looking back at the door, Roger was already in front of the old bronze-doored elevator setting my stuff down. I murmured a quick "oops!" and ran after him. The thick metal door opened up with a loud, classic-sounding "Dinnnnng!" I wondered just how old this place was. But before I could stop and think, Roger walked into the small old room and I followed immediately. The door closed slowly and soon the elevator jostled awake and soared upwards. There was an awkward silence at first, then Roger spoke up.

"So, where do you come from?"

"I live in the mountains in California, about two and-a-half hours north of San Francisco. The town's called Willits. Very small place."

I was amazed with myself; I was incredibly calm and collected, considering my usual mild anxiety. Instead of musing over that, I tuned back into reality.

Roger replied, "Well, that sounds like a lovely place. You know, people who live here in the city just long to retreat to a place like that once in a while."

I beamed. The place I was from made me feel special all of a sudden. I've always been proud of where I came from, but never like this.

"Yeah," I simply said back. I studied the old-fashioned buttons by the door. It was taking forever to get to our destined floor. We were only going up to the seventh floor, but for some reason, time was stuck in place. Was it because I was still stoned? Who knows.

"Okay, we're just about there, now. What's your name again?"

"I'm Nadia."

Roger seemed content at the sound of my exotic name. He chuckled.

"What a pretty name."

"Thanks," I replied, feeling all warm and tingly inside. He smiled.

Just then the elevator made that old dinging sound. The shiny door opened slowly, and revealed a very large bedroom that was probably three times the size of my bedroom. We both walked out of the elevator and into that room. Well, it had a bed and several other ammenities just like a normal room would have, but everything was literally super-sized. This was my own little castle now. I was thrilled. Roger sat my things about twenty feet across the room to the huge dresser, and I followed.

"Okay, Miss Nadia, you can start umpacking any time you like. Meanwhile, my butler Norman's making dinner down in the dining hall. My assistant Dorothy will let you know when it's ready. Now we'll see you in awhile," he said with a wink. He rubbed the back of my shoulder affectionately before going to the staircase and descending. His footseps faded away, but my self-consciousness did not, however. Before touching my bags again, I went all the way over to the humongous, double-king-size bed and sat down on the edge. I stopped to think a little. I could not conatin my excitement about being around my beloved characters. But something was tugging at me. Something made me question if it was real or was it just a drug-induced dream... But I shoved that thought away and vowed to believe that this was indeed real. To keep up the possible charade, I fished for a stray, half-smoked doob in my sweater pocket. My search turned out to be successful; it was less than half-smoked. I got my other tools and smoked out the open window for common courtesy. Why in the world would I smoke a doob inside of the Paradigm City's Top Negotiator's home? I knew way better than that. I draped myself halfway out the window for a while until I was finished. I licked my index finger and thumb and pinched out the remaining stub of the joint; I flicked it down into the streets below with not a care in my mind. I wanted food now, and fast. Just when I thought I was going to starve, I heard footsteps coming up the flight of stairs. But this time they sounded different. They sounded smaller and more feminine. They also seemed to have a heaviness to them, even heavier than Roger's. How could that be? I froze in sudden realization. The heavy steps, the female attributes... Dorothy Wayneright, the attractive android that stole my heart a couple of years ago. When the steps came closer, I quickly wiped the fingers that held the doob on the outside by the window and closed it as fast as I could. Then I ran over to the dresser, yanked the top drawer open, and put the other stuff in a corner. Then I slammed it shut. I looked up, then there she was: at the top of the stairs stood a petite redhead in a black knee-length dress. My jaw dropped. She was absolutely stunning, even more so in real life than just in pictures or on TV in the middle of the night. I stared as she came towards me and then we were face to face. I held my breath as she looked down, then looked me right in the eyes. After that frozen silence, she said in a very feminine but monotone voice,

"Dinner is being served, Nadia."

I flinched. How did she know my name? Oh, okay. Maybe Roger told her somewhere down the hall.

I stammered, "O-okay, Dorothy."

I removed my sweater and threw it on the dresser. Dorothy just watched, then got it and placed it on a coat rack without a word. I stood there somewhat embarassed and even more socially anxious than before; maybe it's that extra joint I just had. Anyway, I walked with her to that same elevator because I didn't want to go down stairs for six it started up, We stood in silence. Then she surprised me and spoke up.

"Roger told me that you are from a very different place. I wonder what it's like where you're from."

I was surprised that she was curious about my hometown. That she was curious about anything having to do with me, this strange new female human in the Smith Mansion.

"Oh, yes, very much so. I live in the mountains where it's quiet. But there isn't much to do sometimes," I explained.

Dorothy nodded, then more silence followed. I thought over the next question carefully because I dreaded looking like a dumbass in front of two of the richest people I know. Before we knew it, we were down at the dining hall. A long, mahogany table stood lengthways in front of us. An crisp white table cloth laid on top. I sat down and flinched at the fancy display ageoll across the table. It was a lavish turkey dinner with mashed potatoes, green beans with bacon bits, yams with marsmallows, and cranberry sauce (not the canned kind!) Dorothy and I went over to seat ourselves. I prepared to sit down, but Roger came over and pulled the chair out as I was bending down.

"Here you go, Miss."

I stood back up again, and analyzed the situation momentarily. He had the upper part of the chair in his grip, and he waved his hand, allowing me to sit down. As I sat down, I found this opportunity to flirt. I moved my body in a way he liked; my hip glided against his waist and I sat down in my chair. Shivers ran down my spine when he smiled that I'm-a-guy-and-I-know-what-you-just-did smile. The whole entire time I was eating that evening, my brain flipped over several thoughts about Roger. Not to mention what I would do with him as well. I remembered writing several stories back at home in which we found ways to let our love unfurl. When we were all finished eating, Roger had a client to serve, so Dorothy and I spent some time together. After she helped Norman put clean dishes away, we went up to my room. Another moment of awkward silence enveloped us. This time I didn't think one of us would break the silence as always... The whole elevator ride was quiet until we finally entered my new bedroom. We both sat down on my bed and, again... silence.

"Hey, um, Dorothy..." I started.

She turned her pretty little head towards me and said, "Yes?"

I picked at my thumbnail discreetly, which was a nasty habit of mine, and asked her, "Do you know about marijuana?"

"Yes, I do know about that. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was wondering if Roger smokes it."

"You could ask him yourself."

At first, I was surprised that she knew what pot was, but then I assumed that she hadn't smoked any before. So I asked more questions.

"Have you ever smoked before, Dorothy?"

"No. It is against the mansion policy: One is not allowed to smoke or carry paraphenalia with them while they are in this mansion."

"Marijuana and cigarettes?"

"Yes, that is correct. I have never smoked, myself."

"Oh," I said, and nodded. I immediately felt embarassed that I asked about some weed in a place like that. Predictable: Dorothy Wayneright was a goody two-shoes. And I had yet to ask Roger if he smoked sometimes. That would come later...

Two Hours Later...

Nighttime spread a blanket over the bayside city. Roger came into my bedroom door while I flipped through the mobile web on my phone. I put it down, walked up to Roger, who had his white shirt and black tie on at the moment, and hugged him... He hugged me back. I cherished the moment when he put his arms around my waist for a few seconds longer. Then he sat down on the bed with me. I felt tingly in my stomach as I felt him scoot closer to me; our bodies were practically touching.

He asked me almost flirtateously, "Was there something you needed to ask me?"

I flinched, then quickly regained my composure. The high hadn't left me yet, and I was feeling the next effect: super chill. I asked finally,

"Do you smoke at all?"

"Well, there is a policy for my mansion about having tobacco or marijuana with you..."

The feeling of disapointment welled up inside me, but then it went away.

He continued, "...But it doesn't hurt to indulge a little on my time off." Then he winked at me, again.

"So you wanna share a bowl with me later, if you have any?"

"Sure. Since I'm not scheduled for any more clients for the rest of the night, how about now?"

"Yeah, cool!" I said very calm.

Roger smiled and got up from the bed. He said, "Alright, I'll get the stuff."

A little while passed before Roger came in with a tray of a green, powder-like substance, along with a black lighter and a square metal pipe. He set it down on the bed and then sat down very close to me again. It was beautiful: large, tightly packed buds spread around on top, right in front of me.

"Here-" he said as he packed the strong-smelling bud into the bowl, "-I'll get this started for us."

When it was ready, I put it up to my mouth and got the lighter ready to light. He took the lighter kindly and said, "May I?"

Then he lit it for me. Embers appeared on the bud as I inhaled, and I stopped when the back of my throat smarted momentarily. I held it in, then passed it to Roger. He took some, then passed it to me. I took a moment to observe his smoking style, and he looked rather elegant when he blew the smoke back out. Then he passed it back to me, and I took one more small hit. I decided that it was enough. In a few moments, I started feeling fine. Then some time scooted along until Roger and I started getting touchy-feely...

The weed relaxed us so, so much that we began to get more and more intimate. Before we knew it, Roger bowled me over on my back on the bed, and he crouched right above me. I smelled his cologne as he smiled and leaned a bit closer. I felt his hands slide slowly down the length of my back. Then they rested on my spine. He obviously enjoyed tracing the outline of my shape, and so he chuckled in acknowledgement. I closed my eyes, then he surprised me and gently pressed his lips onto mine. He released, then kissed me some more; I felt his tongue creep closer and closer into my mouth each time... Soft moans escaped from my mouth as his hands massaged all across my curves and more places still. He got up into a kneeling position on the bed. I got back up and began to loosen his shiny black tie. I threw it to the side, and he unbuttoned his shirt himself. He wrestled it off, and threw it to the side. Here was the moment I was waiting for... He got me onto my back again, and he loomed over me like before. I sighed as his mouth neared mine, then everything went black, all of a sudden... I was falling in darkness, as if I was falling from a very high ledge endlessly... Different parts of my body started to spasm... My right leg, my left arm, my neck, and finally the rest of my body shuddered...

Finally, I jolted awake. The white popcorn ceiling was a blur, and my skin tingled at the touch of the big, soft blanket that was tangled around both legs. I closed my eyes and started to drift off again, but I found myself opening my eyes again and again. I then realized that everything that just happened was nothing but a dream. There was no grasping it, no turning back towards the fantasy. It was no longer tangible, and my world started to sink in disappointment... But then as I was reaching for my mp3 player, my phone rang, and I picked it up.

"Hello?" I said, my voice dragging with the drug-induced sleep.

"Heyyyyy Gurl!" a soft and happy voice cooed into my ear.

"Oh hey, Anthony. Whats up?"

"Nothin' much. Um, I'm in town right now. You wanna meet up somewhere?"

I perked up instantly, and the melancholy thoughts began to fade away.

"Yeah? Where?" I said.

"At Rite Aid."

"Okay!" I chirped, and I pulled on some clothes and cleaned up quickly. Alright, then... My afternoon was starting to go as planned...


End file.
